Psycho Analysis
by Cececat
Summary: Young Dr. Quinzel is assigned the infamous Joker as her first patient when she's hired by Arkham Asylum. Though she spends far too much time trying to understand him. Analyzing him makes her care for him far too much. For if you truly understand even someone's worst faults you cannot help but pity them... or love them. (Please Read/Review!)
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own characters from _Suicide Squad_ or songs lyrics from _WEst Side Story_**

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 **A/N: Writing a fanfic that isn't _Rocky Horror_ will be very strange. This specific story will be especially strange to write because I've decided to add song lyrics to it. That's because the movie has some much music in it. It'll be sort of symbolic, too. I plan to have all songs associated with Dr. Quinzel be 'classic' 1940s music and modern showtunes; Joker-music to be stuff like 70s glam rock; music after Quinzel's 'transition' into Harley be more like Joker's, and so on. Some of the songs I don't actually like. They just seem to fit...**

 **Also... all I know of the characters is from _Suicide Squad_ the movie. I've never read any of the related comics or anything. Hopefully nobody minds. **

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Dr. Harlene Quinzel was a clever girl. Not only had she been a model student in junior high and high school, she'd also done very well in college. A Ph.D. in psychiatry at just 28 proved her a hard worker and disciplined studier. It was clear she'd be able to handle a place like Arkham Asylum. That allegedly was the maddest madhouse in the world - and just a few hours drive from Gotham. Dr. Quinzel had lived in that dismal city her whole life.

A job at Arkham paid very well. Of course Dr. Quinzel accepted their request to employ her. It would also be a good thing to put on her embarrassingly short resume.

Her work began almost too soon. At least they gave her some time to move into her new "home". Yes, the doctors lived at the asylum. Though they got nice apartments in a semi-separate building. The fact that the bedroom was small made Dr. Quinzel even more glad she'd sworn off romantic and sexual relationships. They were something that hindered her career... and, though she'd never admit it to herself, scared her. Even whilst in high school she'd never really dated. All her time she'd spent working. Poor girl would _surely_ die a virgin, people thought.

The rest of her apartment was also a bit cramped. The small kitchen with faded floral wallpaper, a simple living room furnished only with a sofa and an ancient television, and a bathroom just barely big enough to fit a shower. Dr. Quinzel decided she'd redecorate once she got her first paycheck. If her salary actually was what they'd promised she'd have enough for some nicer furnishings. At least she'd brought along her bookshelves. Books were her favorite things in the world. They were her greatest love.

Another somewhat odd thing she adored was showtunes. When she was nervous she'd sing something once heard on Broadway. This childish habit she attempted to keep a secret. At least her new employers didn't know yet.

Of course, as she put her books away, she began to (badly)sing a song from a show she'd loved as a child: _West Side Story_.

" _Could_ _be. Who knows... There's someone due any day, I will kno right away, soon as it shows. It may come cannonballing down from the sky, gleam in its eye... bright as a rose. Who knows? It's only just out of reach, down a block, on a beach. Under a tree! I've a feeling there's a miracle due, gonna come true, coming to me! Could it be? Yes it could... somethings coming, something good..."_

Then, she laughed. Why did that song come to mind? Perhaps it was because such a song fit in here as well as Dr. Quinzel herself did. It was very optimistic.

After a moment she decided it was best to stop thinking about that. She was here to analyze the patients, not herself. Speaking of patients, she'd be looking after the infamous Joker according to some papers she'd found on the sofa.

This was going to be one hell of a job.

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	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Suicide Squad_ or the song _Space Oddity_**

 **A/N: Ye Gods! We've already got 1 review, 4 favorites, 6 follows... this is popular. I'd better point out that this is based only on the movie and nothing else. Hopefully that doesn't bother people. Also, I'm very worried about writing the Joker correctly. I don't know much about him and I've only seen the movie once. And I _know_ I said in the first chapter that he'd be associated with 1970s glam rock. David Bowie's _Space Oddity_ just fit the scene... **

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Dr. Quinzel's first session with the Joker was fascinating.

Guards escorted Dr. Quinzel to a special office that day. The place was cold, scantily furnished, and gray. A place that, like Dorothy's tin friend, seemed incapable of emotion. It made Dr. Quinzel feel like an inmate. The smooth metal of those two chairs and the desk that separated them made things seem even more intimidating.

Quietly, she sat down. Those two guards still stood at the door. Their serious faces gave Dr. Quinzel the impression that she too was being kept captive. She began to stare out the only window. This being winter, she could see snow drifting slowly. The pretty sight calmed her slightly. It also distracted her from the sound of the door creaking open.

A sudden laugh startled her and caused her to fall out of her chair. There _he_ stood – flanked by two more guards.

The Joker wore the usual uniform of those considered more dangerous than the other mental patients. Straitjackets made a person look somewhat frightening but Dr. Quinzel was already used to such a sight. Though his teeth – which were made of metal, like the Phantom's in _Phantom of the Paradise_ – scared her. As did his very pale skin and the dark tattoos that looked stark against it. Though oddest of all was the green hair. As far as Dr. Quinzel had known, inmates weren't allowed any sort of chemical thing like hair dye. Maybe that was only the self-harming patients that needed to follow that rule. That stuff could be dangerous.

" _Ground control to Dr. Quinzel. Ground Control to Dr. Quinzel… take your protein pills and put your helmet on. Ground control to Dr. Quinzel_ ," he sang cheerfully. "It's going to be a bumpy ride, I think. _Ground control to Dr. Quinzel_. You're better off than David Bowie's Major Tom, I should hope. He was lost in space by the end of the song. Like the television show, yes? 'Lost in Space'! Ha! My little joke."

Through this song and short speech his expression stayed mostly the same. He looked sort of tired, though also cheerful. Though he clearly wasn't actually happy – just trying to be happy for some reason. Well, they all called him the Joker. Perhaps he tried to live up to this by laughing and smiling at everything…

"Why do you sing that song?" Dr. Quinzel asked.

"Because it fits. And I like songs. But I _don't_ like Doctors… usually."

"Why don't you like doctors?"

"They call me things. I don't like being called things."

Dr. Quinzel raised an eyebrow. "They insult you?"

He narrowed his eyes. "I call it insulting. They say I lack empathy and that I display signs of schizophrenia. That's a lie! I've never heard funny voices or anything. Though I like movies very much. In a movie anything can happen."

"If your life was a movie what would you want to happen?"

He smiled. "Something awfully Romantic involving flowers and rowboats and duets sung on balconies."

"You're lying."

"I'm joking. There's a difference. I like joking, I don't like lying."

"What do you mean?"

"Lying is what you do to stay out of trouble. When your girlfriend figures out you stole a sweater of hers – which I never did, since I don't have a girlfriend – and you tell her the dog ate it you're lying. _But_ , saying you ate the sweater is joking. She knows you didn't eat it because that would be silly."

That was probably the strangest explanation of such thing that Dr. Quinzel had ever heard. Though it made sense.

Then came the more serious questions. Questions about how he'd been feeling lately. Each of these questions had a joke answer and a real one. At the end of this she decided that he didn't need any med changes. Though, secretly, she only decided this because changing a notoriously troublesome patient's meds soon after meeting them didn't seem the best idea. Anyway, he seemed 'sane' enough. Though being sane and being a safe person to be around were different. Sane, to Dr. Quinzel, meant you didn't have any mental disorders. Being a nasty person wasn't a disorder – it was just unpleasant.

Eventually he was escorted out of the room. The guards seemed suspiciously nervous around him.

Only after he left did she realize she'd been sitting on the floor the whole time. Though she didn't care that her skirt was all crumpled. What mattered was that this Joker person was very strange. Dr. Quinzel felt as if she needed to figure him out. Why did he love to joke? Why did he have freaky teeth? Why did he sing David Bowie songs?

Like Pandora, she was terribly curious about something that she shouldn't have been worrying about. Just talk to the Joker twice a week and decide what meds are best for him. All this about wanting to understand him was silly – Dr. Quinzel knew this – but she couldn't help it.

Curiosity killed the cat, as the saying goes. But what could it do to the psychiatrist?

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	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Suicide Squad_**

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 **A/N: People are actually liking something I've written. That's a pleasant surprise. Never have I gotten 17 follows and 15 favorites - and this is only day two! Even _A Sci-Fi Fan's Adventure_ or _Life (Not) at the Frankenstein Place_ weren't this popular. Perhaps _Suicide Squad_ fics are just being read by everyone currently. **

**Thank you all so much for favoriting, following, reviewing, _reading_...**

 **Also, the ex-doctor Dr. Quinzel speaks to on the phone is based on Professor Plum from the film version of _Clue._**

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Soon after that strange meeting Dr. Quinzel decided to actually read through the Joker's file. Yes, she should've looked over it earlier. But she hadn't seen a serious need to study his record. She liked to _personally_ assess something before reading another person's ideas on it. Though now she'd met him and spoken to him for a while. Time to read his records.

Apparently, he had been brought to Arkham nine years previously at the age of twenty-six. That made him much older than he seemed. Something about that man seemed disturbingly childlike…

At some point they'd decided he was both a sociopath and had Schizoaffective Disorder ( _not_ Schizophrenia, like he'd said). Now, she wasn't so sure about the sociopath thing – he had the 'boldness', but seemed more restrained and his file gave her the impression he had good long-term planning skills – but he didn't seem like someone with. There weren't any delusions and going by his focused behavior he didn't have any disorganized thinking. Yes, his speech patterns were odd… but only because he liked referencing popular culture too much and she apparently hadn't been exposed to enough of it.

Had they really been that inaccurate with his diagnosis? Dr. Quinzel decided she needed to talk to his previous doctors about it. The files listed a few phone numbers. First was a Dr. C. L. Plum. He'd apparently been fired for unspecified reasons only a few months after taking the Joker on as one of his many patients. His only male patient, oddly.

Dr. Quinzel quickly called him on her office phone (her actual office, not the office she'd see the Joker in). He picked up soon enough. Though it was hard to hear, the male voice on the other line had some sort of standard American accent.

" _Hello_?"

"Hi. This is Dr. Quinzel, from Arkham Asylum. I've just been assigned as primary physiatrist to the Joker. According to his records _you_ diagnosed him with sociopathy and Schizoaffective Disorder. Now, I don't know your reasoning for th-"

 _"I know, those diagnosis aren't reasonable. That man isn't mentally ill by the standards of, say, the_ Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders _. But if he were something out of a movie he'd be the 'crazy' bad guy. He's got a few symptoms of sociopathy, mostly the fact that he's antisocial, though he has at least some level of empathy and isn't really that impulsive. He's like a chessmaster that's behind the main story arc of a_ Buffy _season, the Emperor from_ Star Wars _\- as he said himself. The Schizoaffective diagnosis was just because of his obsession with popular culture can be mistaken for delusions of some sort. The ranting about pop culture can seem like a thought disorder if you don't know what he's talking about, or if you don't pay enough attention_. _Though he is aware of what's going on and of the fact that he appears strange by normal social standards_."

"Is this why you were fired?"

" _No. I was asked to think of a likely-sounding diagnosis for him. They needed an excuse to keep him in a mental hospital because normal prisons couldn't handle him."_

"Why were you fired, if I may ask?"

 _"Er, that was a different matter entirely… relating to what female patients who weren't rooted in reality would do if I asked."_

Disgusted by what that man was saying, Dr. Quinzel hung up the phone without another word.

Of _course_ this news made her pity the Joker. Though it also made her somewhat angry. What was the world coming to? A doctor abusing his female patients _and_ inventing a 'likely-seeming' diagnosis for someone? It was unprofessional. Dr. Quinzel vowed to set things right in the case of the Joker. To help save him from all this! Dr. Quinzel was the sort of person who saw the good in everyone. _That_ was her fatal flaw. Only now would she learn how terrible indeed that flaw was.

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 **A/N: Chapters for this story are going to be shorter than my usual 1k chapters so I can post as often as possible. I'm trying to also work on my various _Rocky Horror_ stories at the same time. **

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